


I live in a city sorrow built

by sarahcakes613



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Fluff, Food as a Metaphor for Love, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Not shown on screen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27109000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: After Barba's grandmother dies, Sonny does what he can to support him. Along the way, he learns the truth about Rafael's heritage.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 53
Collections: Barisi Creatures Bingo





	I live in a city sorrow built

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soul_writerr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_writerr/gifts).



> Kat asked me to explore why Rafael has such elfy ears and this is what I came up with.
> 
> Grilled cheese and tomato soup won't cure most ills, but it'll definitely make them vanish for the length of time it takes to eat it.

“Hey, is Barba, y’know?”

Nick looks blankly at Sonny. “Is Barba y’know what?”

Sonny gestures at his ears. “Is he elfin?”

Nick shoots a glance at Liv’s office, where Barba is discussing a possible witness in their current case.

“He doesn’t like to talk about his father,” Nick says in a low voice, “all I know is, his mother’s human.”

Sonny nods and looks over to what he can see of Barba’s head through the open office door.

It’s not essential knowledge in any way, just one of those things that crosses Sonny’s mind when he looks at Barba and notices the dainty point of his ears. He mostly puts it out of his mind and focuses on his stack of paperwork.

He’s reminded of his curiosity a month later when SVU catches a case involving a _peredhel_ teenager who has been facing harassment at their school.

“Trini’s mom is elfin and their dad is human,” Sonny tells Barba when he comes in to witness the line-up. The _peredhel_ has identified their two attackers as classmates and the line-up is practically a formality, as the attackers had been arrogant enough to brag about the harassment on social media.

“Maybe you should talk to them,” Sonny adds.

Barba looks inquisitively at him. “About what?”

Sonny waves his hand at the interview room, where the victim is sitting with their mother and Rollins. “Well, you know, let them know it gets easier. Trini mentioned they were interested in going into policy or law, it might be nice for them to see what you’ve made of yourself.”

Barba stares at him. “I’m going to need a lot more clarification, because I know you’re not implying I understand Trini’s situation as a non-binary adolescent just because I’m an openly gay man.”

“No, no,” Sonny says. “I mean because of the whole half-elf thing.”

“I beg your pardon?” Barba’s lips thin and Sonny falters.

“Because you’re…”

“Both of my parents were human, detective Carisi,” Barba says tightly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have plea deals to make.”

Sonny winces at the taste of his own foot in his mouth. Amaro’s heard most of the interaction and shakes his head as Sonny walks back to his desk.

“I told you, man. He doesn’t like to talk about it. Leave it alone.”

The problem with being told to leave something alone is, it doesn’t take into account Sonny’s natural curiosity. Since joining Manhattan’s squad, he’s felt a draw to Barba, an attraction that he has examined from every angle. He’s been biding his time on doing anything about it, not wanting to make waves when he’s still so new. He can be delicate though, no matter what others think, and he won’t try to push Barba for more than he’s willing to offer.

* * *

A few days after they wrap the Walter Brigg’s case, Sonny sees Barba leaving the squad room in a cloud of frustration. Liv’s seated at her desk, her head tilted back and eyes closed. He raps on the open door.

“Everything okay, lieu?” He asks.

She looks up at him and smiles ruefully. “Yes, thank you Carisi. Barba was just letting me know that we’re going to be working with the ADA pool for a couple of weeks while he’s on leave.”

“Is he alright?” Sonny knows the other man had been a bit distracted during their recent case but he doesn’t know the reason.

“He will be,” she reassures him. “He’s just dealing with an unexpected death in the family and needs some time to help his mother.”

Sonny nods, fingers tapping the doorframe. “Hey, does he have any allergies?”

Liv’s head tilts as she thinks about the question, and then she shakes her head. “I don’t think so. He doesn’t like pumpkin.”

He blinks at her and she shrugs. “He came over last Thanksgiving and had seconds of everything except the pie.”

When Sonny leaves the precinct that afternoon, he stops at his favourite market for a few ingredients and then puts Barba’s address into his GPS. He knows he’s taking a chance on this but he can’t just sit back when someone he knows is in pain. The least he can do is take food off the list of things Barba needs to think about for one night.

Barba’s apartment is the entire third floor of a brownstone and Sonny peers up at the windows as he rings the doorbell. There is a light on in one window and as he presses the button, the next window lights up as well.

“Hello?” Barba’s voice is wary as it crackles through the speaker.

“Uh, hey Mr. Barba, it’s Sonny Carisi.”

He hears a sigh. “I thought I was quite clear with your commanding officer today, Carisi. I’m not on-call right now.”

“No, I know, I'm not here about work. I’m uh, here to see you.”

There’s a pause and then a buzz and a click as Barba unlocks the front door for Sonny. He takes the interior stairs two at a time and gets to the apartment door just as Barba is opening it. He stands there in his sock feet and a lightly rumpled sweater, like he’d been having a lie-down when the doorbell rang.

Sonny holds up his bags of groceries. “I’m going to need your largest frying pan.”

Barba doesn’t say anything, but stands to the side to let Sonny walk in. He looks down at Barba’s feet and toes his own shoes off, positioning them neatly by the door. He follows Barba into his kitchen and looks around, curious to see what the space looks like.

It looks lived in, which surprises him a little. Barba’s always struck him as a man who doesn’t do a lot of cooking, but there are dishes in the sink and a pantry cupboard with see-through glass doors that looks to be fairly well stocked.

Barba points to a cupboard next to his oven. “Cooking dishes are there.”

Sonny opens the cupboard and pulls out a heavy cast-iron skillet and a small saucepan. Based on his apparently wrong assumption about Barba’s cooking habits he’s brought everything else he might need to make dinner. As he gets the skillet warming with oil, he unpacks the rest of his ingredients, lining them up on the counter.

“What are you doing, Carisi?”

Sonny looks at the other man. “Well at the moment, I’m making dinner. Also, I feel like now that you’ve let me into your home, you should really call me Sonny.”

“Redirect, then. _Why_ are you doing?”

Sonny looks at him. Barba looks tired, his face drawn and his mouth set in a slight frown. He focuses on his hands as he speaks, putting together thick cut sourdough with two kinds of cheese and layering in baby spinach and mushrooms.

“Lieutenant Benson told me about your loss,” he says, placing the first sandwich in the skillet. As it cooks, he pries open the can of tomato soup and pours it into the saucepan. He taps in some seasoning from a jar and mixes it in as the soup simmers. “When my nonno died, I think my whole family lived on grilled cheese and tomato soup for about a week,” he comments. “None of us had the energy to do anything more complicated. You know how tired a bunch of Italians gotta be to not have the energy to cook?”

Barba hums and steps closer, drawn in by the aroma.

“I’m sorry about my assumption last month.” Sonny says, finally looking Barba in the eye. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Barba looks at him appraisingly. “You shouldn’t have,” he says. “But I understand why you did.” He considers the pot of soup. "Whenever there was a death in the family, my abuelita would make an enormous pot of frijoles. No one else has wanted to attempt them this time."

Sonny flips the first sandwich and begins assembling a second one. “I know I never met her, but I’ve heard a coupla stories about your grandmother from Liv and Nick. She sounded like a pretty great lady.”

“She was,” Barba says quietly. “She came to America with nothing and gave everything she had to the people she loved. Even if they weren’t blood.”

Sonny looks sharply at him. Barba looks back steadily. Sonny is the one to break eye contact, refocusing his attention on the grilled cheese. He flips the first one onto a plate and slides the second into the skillet, giving the soup a stir as well.

“You were a foundling, weren’t you?” He looks carefully at Barba.

Barba takes a deep breath and nods. “Lucia found me on the grounds of her school in 1970. I call her my mother but Catalina is really the one who raised me.” He brings a hand up to rub at the point of his ear. “I was tested when they found me and bloodwork showed that I’m quarter-elf on each side. Lucia’s husband didn’t want me around, but Catalina told him he could either adopt me or she’d disappear him.” He smiles at the memory. “He was convinced she was a witch, so the threat worked.”

The second sandwich is ready and the soup is gently bubbling, so Sonny switches off the elements. Barba takes down bowls and plates from a cupboard and hands him a ladle. He arranges the soup and sandwiches on the dishes and carries them both to Barba’s kitchen bar.

They sit, and Barba bites into his sandwich. The cheese stretches out as he pulls the bread away from his mouth and he chases it with a delighted laugh. Sonny feels a warmth in his heart as he watches the other man. Barba catches his eye and smiles.

“Thank you, Sonny.” Barba murmurs around his bite. He puts his hand on Sonny’s shoulder and squeezes.

Sonny shrugs uncomfortably. “I’m just doing what I’d do for anyone I –” He shuts his mouth with a click.

“For anyone you?” Barba looks at him, his mouth curved into a small smile.

Sonny drags his spoon through his soup and looks at Barba out of the corner of his eye. “For anyone I care about.” He says quietly.

Barba chews and swallows, sets his sandwich down. “Sonny.” His voice is soft and Sonny prepares himself for rejection. “I appreciate all of this,” Barba says. “And I appreciate you.”

“But?” Sonny says with a rueful smile.

Barba smiles back. “But I need time.”

Sonny nods. He understands that Barba doesn’t feel like he’s in a place to make any big decisions right now, and the last thing he wants is for the other man to feel pressured into something.

“I’m here for you if you need me,” Sonny says. “And I’ll be here for you regardless of whether or not you want me.” He frowns at the way that sounds. “I mean as a friend. If that’s all you want.”

Barba laughs. “I got that, thanks.”

As they eat, Barba tells Sonny more stories about Catalina and his childhood, and Sonny hoards each of these anecdotes as new information only he has been privileged enough to hear.

Unlike the ADA, Sonny has to be back at work tomorrow, so he doesn’t linger after dinner. He tries to wash up but Barba waves him off. “You cooked; I can clean.”

He walks Sonny to the door and touches him lightly on the elbow before he leaves. When Sonny turns, Barba kisses him lightly on the cheek. “If you come back and make grilled cheese tomorrow night, you can call me Rafael.”

Sonny ducks his head and grins. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Rafael.”

**Author's Note:**

> Peredhel is the word for half-elf in Tolkien's legendarium.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Slowing Down the Tune](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826042) by [sarahcakes613](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613)




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